"He's too nice..."

"He's a nice guy," the senior Japanese teacher told me with a smile and thick accent.  Then, his smile dropped to a hard look and he finished with, "but, he's too nice."

One thing I've come to learn in the world of martial arts, martial arts masters, and all the different schools out there - popularity and quality are not equal.  Often, the highest quality teachers are the hardest to learn from, even the hardest to find.

When I was younger, I used to set my VCR to record all kinds of late-night, cheesy martial arts flicks.  They were aired on a show called "Kung-Fu Theater", where they played low budget kung-fu movies at some crazy hour of the night (like 3:00am).  The majority of them had a common plot line:  A young apprentice would have to prove himself and convince the old master to accept him as a student.  In this process, the young man would carry water, haul rocks and do all sorts of difficult tasks.  Once he was finally accepted, often the student would either be an "uchi-deshi" (live-in student) or part of the small group of students.  In the latter, the new pupil would be in the lowest class of student, usually having to work hard to keep up with everybody else, often having to prove himself to the other students.  He would be treated roughly, shown little mercy at times.  As an uchi-deshi, he would have to continue to perform many tasks, sometimes grueling and repetitious.  I remember scenes where the young student would have to stand on the tops of tall, vertical poles, while holding himself in some kind of pose.  Other situations would involve having to cross treacherous mountain passes, while carrying very heavy and awkward loads on his shoulders.

 The point is that all this was a test for the aspiring student.  Then, when finally accepted, they were still expected to prove themselves, to have their endurance and patience tested.  At various points throughout this ordeal, the student would be exposed to the master's teachings.  He would have to try and pick up what he could from them.  If he was lucky, proved himself that day (or moment), the master would give him some personalized training, a nugget of wisdom or a particular technique to practice.

In one movie, the student would have to travel miles to be taught one technique, then sent away to practice.  When the student returned, the master would ask him to demonstrate the technique.  If it wasn't to the master's satisfaction, he would send him away, telling him to come back when he's trained enough on that technique.  One of two things would happen - either the student would train enough to finally be granted a new lesson, or he would eventually give in to frustration and quit.


In many of these movies, the masters who were popular were most often the ones who were arrogant, had arrogant students, and they usually lost in the end.  Yet, they had the most attractive schools, flashy and charismatic, the kind of school that people would want to go to.  They were popular and had huge numbers of students, a large facility and fancy uniforms.

In contrast, the rogue master, the "good guy", was often a kind of hermit, usually very humble lifestyle, either no school or a home dojo of some kind, no uniform or something simple, and they lived either in secrecy or obscurity.  Some had reputations which would be almost unbelievable, yet you would never know it by their appearance and demeanor.

In today's martial arts, popularity most often is the judge of quality.  If a teacher, school or style is popular, all over the internet and other media sources, it's easy to assume they are "good" and worth our time and energy to learn from or with.  Yet, one has to take a good look at why they are popular and is it proof of the substance and quality of the instruction?  Are they even legitimate? 

I have found that most often, popularity is driven by a few key points:

1.  Marketing - the person, school or style which is most predominant in the various forms of media available (internet, books, magazines, etc) is the one on the forefront of people's minds.  Most people don't bother with doing their homework or research, so whatever is most commonly seen or heard tends to be what people go to.

2.  Availability - schools and teachers which make information easily accessible tend to attract most people.  Those who give away 'freebies' or spoon feed information are attractive to an audience who lack the drive, patience and fortitude to have to work hard for the information.


3.  Packaging - schools and teachers who present their teaching into convenient packages for the students are more likely to attract and keep students.  Most people don't want to be presented with teaching which is obscure, or incomplete.  Yet, we all remember watching movies of the old masters who taught with puzzles and cryptic lessons that forced the student to discover the answers themselves.  Our own Soke is known for this.  It just doesn't make for a successful McDojo.

4.  Home Study Courses and other means that go against actually having to come to class and train - this is a vehicle that only serves to line the pockets of the teacher.  It's pure money making, as anybody with a wad of money can purchase the material.  They have to prove nothing to the teacher, other than the purchase confirmation.

5.  Instant rewards - schools that do the best and teachers who are most popular are most often ones which pump their students with special awards, recognitions, "Black Belt Club" and other special patches, certificates for all sorts of things, and many other gimmicks designed to give the student a sense of accomplishment.  Even ranking can be used this way.  Yet, if you look back in martial arts history, even belt ranks are a fairly recent invention.




The old masters trained their students hard and expected absolute devotion to the lessons they provided.  How much a student put into their training was a reflection on the level of respect they had for the art they were learning.  Only the most passionate, hardest training students were allowed to continue.  It was the student's obligation and responsibility to seek out the teacher, prove themselves as worthy of the teaching, and through their actions, continue to be accepted as a student of the master.

The master never pursued or tried to influence the student to join.  If the student failed, or wasn't showing up to train, the master continued without him.  If the master saw potential in a young man, he might invite him to come train, but would not use any slick marketing or gimmicks to get him to join.

It was always about the relationship.  Building that relationship took time and effort, at first on the part of the student.  However, when the student stuck it out, did everything the master instructed, and proved his devotion and showed respect by practicing hard and diligently in the lessons he was taught, that relationship became stronger than any other.  This is why the relationship between a student and one's teacher can be stronger than family.

Yet, today we have students who simply sign on the dotted line, show up and expect to be taught.  They carry themselves as the valued person, where the teacher is their servant and their success or failure is a result of the efforts of the teacher, not of their own.  In a McDojo, this is further hammered in by programs which offer ranking for memberships, structured lesson plans that lay out a cookie-cutter design for everybody.  It's not about the relationship.  It's about the program and it's success as a business.  You have teachers who are salesmen, watching their profit/loss ratio and always coming up with some new strategy to attract more and more students.

Then, there are those who aren't running businesses, but who are almost like predators in the way they go out and seek "followers" or "students" to surround themselves with.  For them, it's not about the program, but about the attention.

Unfortunately, the McDojos tend to be the popular schools and teachers who have strong public presence and easily accessible instruction tend to be the popular teachers.  But, there are many masters, those who live normal lives outside the limelight, who train in their arts and pursue their own Shugyo (martial path).  Those who they allow to follow in their footsteps are close knit, having developed good relationships which began with the students first proving themselves as devoted students who are serious about training.  The numbers are small and anybody wanting to be a part of that group has to first try and find them, then be welcomed in.  Neither of those two points are easy and that's part of the test.  If a student is allowed to join a class, they still aren't accepted.  They have to earn their place and lessons are things to grasp, not something handed to them.  Sometimes, it can take a very long time to finally be accepted as an actual student.  But, in the end, that relationship with the teacher (and the others in the group) is incredible, as are the lessons and the quality of martial arts that come from it all.

So, be careful of those who are "too nice", as they may be trying to sell you something or get you into their circle to fuel their need for attention.  Learning martial arts from a true master first requires establishing a relationship with them.  You have to earn their trust and prove to them you are worth their time and effort to teach you what they already know.  Understand that many different teachers sell their knowledge and, for the most part, that is fine.  But, there is a difference between a business transaction and a personal relationship.  You may get what you pay for, but nothing more.  However, in a true relationship between teacher and student, where it's a personal relationship instead of profits, the transmission of the art becomes enriched on unlimited levels.  You don't just learn what's in the textbook.  You get to learn all the good stuff that exists outside the limits of the textbook.

Seek out those real masters, do what it takes to prove to them that you are a serious student and, lastly, give respect to what they teach you by devoting yourself to training hard on it. Do that and you'll discover a depth to the art that you would never have gotten by simply following the crowd to the nearest McDojo, signing up for the 3 year black belt club program, purchasing the ten disc home study video course, buying the latest dojo t-shirt and fancy uniform with the artsy logo and falling for the slick salesmanship of the "nice" martial arts teacher who compliments you with a smile and tells you what you want to hear.

It requires hard work just to get the opportunity to learn from a true master.  It requires even harder work to actually learn from them.  There are no shortcuts.  There is no easy way.  It's in the struggle that the greatest rewards exist.  Anybody who is "too nice" runs the risk of denying their students those rewards.  Any student who chooses to follow the popularity of a school or teacher runs the risk of a transmission of an art that is no better than fast food.

This is budo, the way of war, of life and death.  You should never settle for anything less than the best opportunities and the most fulfilling training.  But, that may require intensive searching, sacrifice, often travel and constant struggle.  Are you willing to go through all that?

Most aren't.

Kata is the vehicle, not the destination...

My thoughts on Kata and their importance…

In traditional martial arts, Kata are the techniques that make up the core of study.  Depending on whom you ask, Kata can have different meanings and levels of importance.  In more recent history, this has been a constant source of controversy, with some dropping Kata entirely from their curriculum and focusing, instead, on concepts, free exploration and adaptation.

In our Bujinkan organization, we have nine traditions, or ryuha, each with their own structure of Kata.  There are Kihon (foundation) but then you get into levels of Kata, from written Densho to oral Kuden.  This is how the arts have been preserved and passed on from generation to generation.

For myself, Kata have been like the perfect antagonist to a fantasy novel.  They are context-based, coming from history and archeology at a time when people carried swords, wore armor and even had basic firearms.  In the different histories of our ryuha, you have armored guys fighting aboard ships, deploying guerilla warfare tactics, guarding dignitaries and their lords from assassins, living in nature as warrior-monks, and so on.  The histories are rich and culture and legends, at a time in Japanese history when turbulent wars for power were constant.  Only when the wars ended, Japan became unified and the overall need for martial arts changed, that you began to have ritualized, codified and preserved traditions.  Prior to that, martial arts were not something publicly taught, there weren’t really any “dojos” and those who taught were either privately training their students or taught government/military forces in a more generalized and structured way.

Today, martial arts are not only a commercial industry, but also the needs and context today are not the same.  But, the lessons learned from those Kata are still every bit applicable to learning.  In my opinion, people miss the lessons those Kata taught.  As the saying goes, they’ve missed the moon for the finger.  They fail to understand that those who wrote down and shared Kata did so to convey certain lessons, lessons which we still need to learn if we are to truly learn the art we profess to study.

If we take a Kata and first look at it in a narrow “Solution A to Problem A”, then context matters and we’ll be trapped into finding no relevancy to modern danger or situations.  I mean, really, are we likely to be attacked by a sword wielding Samurai looking to take our head back as a trophy?  Maybe a terrorist or crazy madman might come at us like that, but the likelihood is really far off compared to, say, Feudal Period Japan.  But, if we take a Kata and dig into the details, of what makes it work and why, we begin to learn about anatomy, physics, kinetics, balance, leverage, and many other wonderfully universal lessons that can be directly applied to modern application.

Let’s take a look at a basic Kata called Hicho no Kata, from our Kihon Koshi Sanpo.  Without “teaching” this kata on a blog, let me at least share with you some key points that often are missed.  The starting Kamae (Posture) for this Kata is called Hicho no Kamae.  Your lead foot is up on your rear calf and your lead knee points at your Uke, while your hands are up to protect.  The Uke executes a strike to your gut and you do a downward, almost sweeping type of "block" to receive it.  This is called Gedan Uke Negashi.  From there, you do a front kick to their midsection, at a target which is at a specific point at their stomach.  This target is called Suigetsu.

Now, this raises several problems for the student.  First, nobody is going to face off with an attacker while standing with one foot propped up, unless maybe you are the Karate Kid.  Second, to kick that part of the attacker requires you to be almost perpendicular to the attacker’s torso.  If they strike you with the standard Tsuki (thrusting with the body narrow, like a fencing thrust), the torso points out the side, making that target almost unreachable.

To “fix” these two issues, a student will rationalize themselves into changing the base form.  They will start in Ichimonji no Kamae, with both feet on the ground, step out to the inside and raise the front foot as the opponent strikes.  They change THEIR position.   To them, this “fixes” the seemingly vulnerable part about standing on one leg while being attacked and the part about being able to reach the Suigetsu target.  Or they may even just forgo the Suigetsu and just kick wherever they can reach.

So, what is learned from this Kata?

The way I was taught placed absolute importance on two things:

1.        Being able to maintain balance and structure while sweeping low to redirect the attack.  You can’t move position, so you have to rely on the Uke Negashi to do the work.  This involves dropping low on the base leg and catching the timing of when to push the attack out so that it misses you.  This is VERY difficult and uncomfortable!


2.       The importance of doing #1 correctly so that you move the Uke’s torso, twisting them on their axis, so that the front of their abdomen faces you for the kick to Suigetsu.  This also means having to pull your kicking leg back into Hicho no Kamae, while maintaining balance and low Kamae.  The final action in the Kata is to deliver an Ura Shuto to Uko, which is under the ear at the base of the skull.  This requires going back to Hicho no Kamae after the kick to allow the Uke to “fall” into position for the Shuto.  This is also VERY difficult and uncomfortable!

If you train this Kata in the manner I described, think of the benefits you get to your body, your structure, balance, power generation and delivery.  You also learn to control the Uke to create the openings, while developing precision in hitting specific Kyusho (weak areas of the body).

No, it’s not a real fight.  It’s not meant to be.  It’s a learning tool.  But, from the lessons in there, you can apply them to a fight.  You learn how to receive an attack in a manner that takes power away and breaks the structure of your attacker.  You learn how to attack specific targets as they appear.  You develop strong, reliable and consistent power, flexibility, control and balance in your lower body and core (a “must” for Japanese budo arts).

How applicable are all those lessons to modern fighting situations?

This is just one example, but you can begin to understand the point.  Kata are vessels containing many lessons.  Some are obvious, some not so obvious.  Others are so deep that, even after almost three decades of training, I’m still discovering them (or having a teacher reveal them to me).

Some people may ask when is a Kata no longer important or when does it run out of lessons.  My opinion is that the only way that happens is when the student’s mind closes itself off from them.  Kata don’t need to be changed.  They don’t need to be adapted.  They need to be explored with an open mind and curious attitude.  The lessons learned can be experimented with, isolated and developed on their own, mixed in with various techniques and situations, and so on.  But, they need to be discovered and learned first and you can only do that when you dig deeply into the Kata that contains them.

Just my thoughts.

The Knowledge, Experience, Ability Paradigm

I have been going through a lot of changes in my Shugyo (martial arts training path) and wanted to share some interesting thoughts I've concluded recently that have served to be a hard look at myself and a catalyst for my own "keeping going".

Before I begin, however, I must confess something I haven't told anybody except for maybe a very few select people:  I almost quit martial arts.  Actually, I have hit this wall so many times now that I am surprised this is something profound for me to admit.  But, yes, I almost walked away from training, at least in the current arts in which I train.  The reasons have always been varied and I could still sit here and list out a number of them which have been constant for me in a decision to hang up the keiko gi and do something else.

Yet, I don't.  I still keep training.  Why?  I don't know.  I can recite all sorts of specific, and even valid, reasons to quit my Bujinkan path.  Yet, I have trouble citing specific reason why I keep going.  Maybe it's because I've been doing it so long that I don't know how to NOT train?  Maybe it's because of the friends I've made along the way?  Maybe it's my loyalty to those few who still look to me for guidance in their own paths?  Maybe it's some wayward fantasy that I just might reach some amazing level of ability and enlightenment that will make it all worth it?

I tend to believe any of the others over that last one!  But, still that nagging question haunts me - "why keep going?".

I have been training for almost 30 years now.  In that time, I have trained in many arts, with many friends and teachers.  I have been taught so many different "ways", often contradictory to each other, to make anybody confused.  I have trained with those I thought were quality teachers, only to have another point and tell me that what I was taught was wrong.  I have had teachers openly criticize methods and techniques I was taught by other teachers.  They all seem to share the same conviction that their way is The Way, or (and probably more so) what the other guy is doing is not The Way.  Some of these people are good friends, those I consider quality bugeisha and budo sensei.  Yet, the conflict tears at the fabric of training when one struggles to get the approval of who they are learning from.  That is what a student does - train for approval from their teachers and peers.  We all like it.  It motivates us and validates our efforts.

The thing with the Bujinkan is that quality can be determined by relationships - the transmission line from Soke, through the Shihan to the rest of the world.  Those who are there the most are afforded the best opportunities to garner the best quality of transmission.  That doesn't mean they "get it" or don't struggle with their own misunderstandings, ego and ignorance.  We are all human, after all.  But, on paper, it makes for very convincing criteria on who one should listen to.  The next layer of determining validity is to simply watch to see if that person moves like the next level up in the line of transmission.  Does Shidoshi "A" move like their teacher or Shihan, who moves similar to Soke?  Or does that teacher move in ways that don't resemble anybody, including Soke or the Shihan?  What if that person is a Jugodan who lived in Japan for years, trained several times per week with Soke and the senior Japanese Shihan?

What if two top Shihan both tell you the other is wrong?

How would you feel if, after 10+ years of following the teachings of top instructors, training hard, you are told by a top, respected Shihan that what you are doing is wrong and that HIS way is the RIGHT way?

Yet, everybody just repeats the same matras of "Shut Up & Train" and "Gambatte" or "Keep Training".  So, keep doing the same thing?  Do you know the definition of Insanity, to keep doing the same things over and over, expecting a different result?  Whose advice and correction should you trust?

This happens regularly and is precisely one big reason people will throw in the towel and stop training, or they simply go their own way and ignore the criticism - which can lead to critical flaws in development.  It all becomes overwhelming, confusing and discouraging.  At times, it even is childish and destructive.

Something I have been giving great thought to recently, in looking at my own Shugyo, the challenges I have faced and continue to face, and the brutal self-assessment I keep subjecting myself to, is what I call "The Knowledge, Experience, Ability Paradigm".  No matter who you are or who you train with, this model represents where we all are at any given point.  They can be individually looked at as:

• Knowledge - This is what your brain understands.  It's not just techniques, principles and such, but also how you understand those things.  It's your thinking muscle, what you observe and interpret the teachings with and how you observe and interpret your own training.  It's all visceral.
• Experience - This is direct experience, what you have done, the things you've encountered, had done to you, all the classes and seminars you've attended, the many teachers you've learned from, the different methods and arts you've trained with, and so on.  Direct, first hand experience accumulated over time.  This can also be thought of as "mat time".
• Ability - This is your level of performance.  This can also include conditioning, mobility and strength, as well as technical proficiency and having that "something" that goes beyond the technique.

We are all at differing levels of each one of these and, together, they make up what level we are in our evolutionary growth as budoka.  What you learn in your head is expressed in your action, which creates your ability.  At the same time, your ability can reveal things that, because of your experience, tells your brain valuable information about yourself or what you are trying to learn.  They are all unique, yet interconnected to each other.

Knowledge without Experience lacks Application.  Experience without Knowledge lacks Ability.  Ability without Knowledge or Experience lacks Reality.  You can interpret it many ways, but the point (I think) is clear.

Where I have been the most frustrated in my Shugyo is when there has been a disconnect in this Paradigm model.  I spend too much time in my head and my training time lowers, thus my ability or performance suffers.  I spend too much time just training and not researching, analyzing, listening and watching my teachers and I get off track in my development.  I go out and experience too many different things and I get confused and my taijutsu falls apart in contradiction.  It is a fine chemistry that needs constant evaluation and honest assessment, not just from ourselves, but from our teachers (and even our peers).  There has to be honesty at the root of all of these.  Honesty is the thing that binds these all together, like the silver cord that keeps them all connected.  It is through this self-honesty and teachers/peers being honest with you that you are able to maintain this balance.

Where things fall apart is when a student, who takes on a teacher because they see/interpret something that fascinates them enough to want to replicate it in their own taijutsu, suddenly faces problems when another teacher tells them they don't understand or that they are going about things wrong.  It is in those moments that the student needs to take a look at not only what they are doing, but also what their teacher is doing.  Is what they are learning taking them on a path towards Soke?  Is what they are doing not only based on Knowledge (Densho?  Kuden?), but also backed up by Experience (training) and Ability (level of application)?  Or is it pure theoretical musing, not based on teachings from Soke or the Densho, and which, in training, uses skills which are found nowhere in the art you are learning?  How different or far off the path of transmission to the next layer up to Soke is it?

And, are you being pushed to learn from sources which are also not in the line of transmission to Soke and the arts you are trying to learn?

These are important questions, and even if one analyzes what they are doing from this perspective, they will STILL run into conflict in what methods are "right", and what techniques are "right".  As long as there are at least two budo sensei, there will always be points of conflict or disagreement.  It's been that way since the inception of martial arts.

All we can do is trust.  Trust ourselves enough to follow our gut or instinct.  Trust ourselves to admit when something (or someone) just doesn't feel "right".  Trust ourselves to know that we are capable of making our own choices and that, even if we later discover the error in those choices, we also are capable of change.  It's also in trusting ourselves to have that honesty in evaluating where we are in each of the three areas:  Knowledge, Experience and Ability.  Don't have enough knowledge?  Ask questions, read Soke's books, watch Soke's videos, get around the people who do know.  Don't have enough Experience?  Show up and train.  Practice at home.  Just get up and work on something, even small things.  It all adds up.  Don't have enough Ability?  Check your Knowledge and Experience.  Maybe you need more of one or both.  Maybe you are just in a slump, too (that does happen).  Ability is influenced by Knowledge and Experience, but you can't control it.  You can have strong Ability one day, and weak Ability the next.  That's just life.  You can only directly control your Knowledge and Experience.  Ability is the product of the two.

Another important point is simply this:  If you struggle with your Ability, take a look at the Ability of the one you are trying to replicate and ask yourself these 3 questions:

1. Am I doing what they had to do in order to develop the Ability they have?
2. Do I have a physical makeup (body type, fitness level, etc) that resembles what they have?
3. Is what they are doing following a line of progression and transmission that leads to Soke?

If there is a disconnect in any one of those, then you know what you have to do.  You may not be able to help body type, but fitness, flexibility and strength you can improve.  Look at Soke and the senior Japanese Shihan (most are in their 70's).  They are amazingly flexible, strong and with incredible range of motion.  How are you in comparison?  However, there are body types which simply are structurally limited.  For instance, there are some body types you will never see doing a front or back handspring.  I'm not saying it can't be done, but the likelihood of it is very rare, compared to a lean, lightweight person.

Also, maybe you are rushing your training expectations?  We have to remember that when Soke and his inner group of students came out into the world with this art, they were already in their 30+ years of training.  Yet, what we saw we all tried to replicate, expecting to gain those results in only a few years.  Think about that for a minute.  Only through some grainy photos and old black and white film do we get a small glimpse of what their training was like prior to that.  But, even so, you still see them with black belts on...

So, if you are training and trying to move like a senior Japanese Shihan, cut yourself some slack.  Also, consider what they did when they were starting out or in their first years of training.  Are you doing that?  Do you honestly feel you don't need it?

Have you ever taught to a group of people who were all at different levels of Knowledge, Experience and Ability?  Who do you tend to teach to?  Any instructor will tell you that, with a large group, they focus on the middle third.  Those who are new will learn from the more experienced and those who are more experienced will train at their level, guided by more private or personalized instruction of the teacher during practice.  Now consider the hundreds who go to Japan every year to train.  When Soke is teaching, there could be upwards to over 50 people crammed in the Hombu Dojo!  When Soke teaches at the Budokan, this number could swell to a hundred or more.  The Japanese Shihan there also can have larger or smaller classes.  Even so, most are people who may only be there for a handful of days and try to absorb what they can in that small amount of time.  Those who live there or will be there for extended periods have the time to break things down and work on them, receiving correction and guidance along the way.  Then, there's the mix of yudansha, yodansha, Shidoshi and Shihan from all over the world, with their different cultures, languages and levels of understanding.

So, what you tend to get is teaching that tries to either shed light on a few pointers, or help explain what Soke was showing the night before, or the Shihan just keeps teaching at the level he chooses to capture the greatest number of people.  It's not complete, it isn't really reaching the individual development needs of each person and it doesn't allow for the time it takes to really put in enough "mat time" to train on.  You are expected to get what you can get, take it back with you and let it guide or provide inspiration for on-going training at your own dojo.  That is why many of the Japanese Shihan have their own personal dojo, outside of the Hombu Dojo.  But, if you aren't regularly attending, then what are you really learning?

At the end of the day, you still must have a teacher who you trust to train with regularly to work on those building blocks that take you to your next level, assuming that next level takes you a step closer to Soke.  Just be accepting that we all develop according to our own natural pathways, limitations and understandings.  Ignore the politics, the dribble and bickering.  Have an open mind, clear vision and honest judgement - and don't be afraid to change if you discover something is taking you off course from what you want to achieve.

Different teachers teach different things differently.  They all have value and something you can learn from.  But, know why you are learning from them, what it is they are trying to teach you and what role that plays in the direction you are trying to go.  Blind faith is suicide and irresponsible, two traits not becoming of a Budoka.  It's okay to seek out a teacher who might have more Knowledge, Experience and Ability in some areas than the teacher you currently train under.  In fact, an honest teacher will guide you to someone they feel more qualified in a particular area.  I suck at some things in my own training and don't pretend to be an expert.  Yet, I have friends who are very qualified in those areas.  Not only do I train with them myself to fill those deficiencies, I encourage my students to do the same.  That's just being honest.

You can't let the snobby attitudes of elitist instructors dictate your path.  If fact, if you had to choose between a mediocre, honest teacher and a very skilled, egotistical one, I would bet you would spend your time with the former, rather than the latter.  And, you will find those others in class will most often be the ones you enjoy training with the most, building strong friendships based on trust and honesty, whereas the egocentric teacher will tend to draw those who are either egocentric themselves or who blindly worship such people.

Yet, it is that mediocre, but honest, teacher who struggles the most in their own Shugyo, because at the root of it all they still consider themselves a struggling student, with errors, misunderstandings, challenges and development needs, who continue to self-assess and seek out instruction from those teachers who can help bring balance back to their Knowledge, Experience, Ability Paradigm.

So, they Keep Going and that's why I Keep Going.  Because, nobody's opinion matters more about me than my own and I value myself, my potential, too much to give up.  I know any lacking in Knowledge can be learned in many ways and am fortunate to be surrounded by those with more Knowledge than me.  My Experience can be built by training and I am fortunate to have friends always willing to train, my health to be able train and the venues to conduct the training.  My Ability, well, it is what it is.  I just have to be patient and keep seeing it as a Work in Progress, a soup containing all the Knowledge and Experience, some good and some maybe not so good.  I have proud moments of performance and moments I wish I had never stepped onto the mat!  But, as long as I keep growing in Knowledge and Experience, finding the people and sources which are the closest to what I understand as the next level in the transmission of this art from Soke to me, then I have to trust that my Ability will twist, turn, change and evolve in that direction, too, even if sometimes I may wave off into a tangent.  It will return if I Keep Going.

Anyway, enough rambling.  If you've made it this far, thank you for reading.  I hope it has helped you in some way or at least provided something to chew on in your own seeking of Knowledge.

Gambatte Kudasai!

Conditioning Your Body For Your Technique

No, this not just another post about fitness and health, as the internet is already full of literally thousands of sites dedicated to such topics.  Rather, this is about sharing my thoughts relating to classical fighting techniques and your body.

Throughout history, mankind has had to survive against extinction from a wide variety of threats.  Whether from environment conditions, illnesses, accidents, animals or other people, those humans who survived had to do so through adaptation, innovation, hard work and a deep resolve.  Those who didn't or couldn't adapt simply didn't survive.  Of course, humans were limited by knowledge and technology, so even a well developed body and trained technique still failed when the threat was just more than they could handle.  However, history tells tales of those rare individuals who defied the odds and were able to survive incredible danger.

The body, when powered by the Will to survive, can adapt and overcome many challenges.  It's truly a testament to the sheer awesomeness of the human animal.

As humans learned how to hunt, build shelter, make clothing, gather and prepare foods (and which ones didn't poison them!), those lessons were taught to others and shared among their family and, eventually, their tribes.  In addition, as long as there have been humans, there has been fighting.  Skills were learned through direct experience.  Some were for establishing social order, some for forcibly obtaining resources or protecting one's resources - or for fighting wars.  Those who were successful passed along their knowledge and experience to successors.  All this is what eventually became martial arts.

Fast forward now to Feudal Period Japan.  Armies of young warriors, Samurai and Bushi, collide into each other in wars for dominance, to further the aims of their Daimyo, until eventually there was one who became Shogun.  To serve as a soldier, even more as a Samurai, was a serious thing.  Considering the poverty that existed, being a paid soldier was better than starving or slaving away as a farmer or other laborer.  The conquests and chance to gain fame and honor in the service of one's lord was a very attractive venture.  Every one of them made it their priority to train hard so they would always be ready to fight and to succeed.  It was their job to not only train well, but to be healthy.  An injured, ill, or disabled Bushi or Samurai would be of little or no use.  There was no unemployment, welfare or disability insurance.



When martial arts techniques were developed, they were shared among their respective groups, armies, tribes, communities and families to aid in the overall survival and success.  Along with those techniques also came advances in technology.  Various tools and equipment were developed.

However, even as techniques and technology advanced, there still existed the basic human component of adapting the body to the conditions.  The health and ability of the individual was still paramount to the success of those strategies and techniques.  It's no different today.

As time passed, many strategies, techniques and technologies became codified and preserved.  These were passed on from generation to generation as a form of historical significance.  This is where we get Koryu, or the old martial arts.  After the unification of Japan, when the wars for dominance were over, those military arts were turned into Koryu.  From there, many other arts were born, along with sport martial arts.  Those arts created from the Koryu or after the warring periods are called Gendai.  This is where we see arts like karate, judo, kendo, and many other martial arts.  From there, we also have all the modern arts which encompass aspects of several older arts.  The techniques vary, the technologies vary, and many astute masters have evolved their arts to adapt to modern day fighting and technologies.

But, no matter the art, it's history, the strategies, the technologies, or the techniques, one's health and ability is still the foundation, the deciding factor, in the successful outcome of surviving real danger.

With all that said, I want to propose some ideas to challenge your perception of martial arts techniques.  I don't mean sport techniques or techniques adapted to modern times.  I mean the old techniques, the ones developed during horrible warring and struggles for survival.  These are the techniques which were brutally effective, designed to be decisive and direct, often against very dangerous situations.

In our Bujinkan traditions, there are many kata which involve some incredible ability to successfully pull off.  When you read the descriptions, you'll see that many parts of techniques have some pretty dramatic damage to the opponent.  When you read stories told by Hatsumi Soke, he relates tales of former Soke who could do amazing things.  One story was of how Toda Soke used to be able to run up tall poles.  Other stories are about Takamatsu Soke and how he was able to defeat several men who attacked him with knives.  In that story, all of the attackers were stabbed and cut to death and Takamatsu Soke was arrested for murder.  However, he was cleared of charges because witnesses said all the attackers stabbed each other - that Takamatsu Soke didn't cut or stab any of them!  Takamatsu Soke later apparently attributed his survival to the flexibility of his legs.  I can only arrive to the conclusion that he had used some phenomenal sabaki and taihenjutsu!

There are other stories about catching arrows, ripping bark off trees, and even being able to strike and break pebbles with the fingers!  The old masters could jump great heights and distances, run for hours across rugged terrain, climb mountains, trees and buildings, and do all sorts of seemingly super human feats.  It's not hard to believe.  All one has to do is look at some of the old photos of our Bujinkan senior Japanese teachers and you can see just how developed they were.  Even now, as old as Hatsumi Soke and the Japanese seniors are, they still have amazing physical abilities.  Their bodies are highly conditioned, flexible, mobile and strong.


 

The reason I bring this up is to highlight the importance of conditioning the body.  Now, why this is different than the usual health and fitness movement going on in present day is simply because of a difference of purpose.  Back then, bodies were conditioned for the techniques they used.  Sometimes that conditioning was not very healthy.  Takamatsu Soke could bend his wrists all the way around backwards.  However, in later years he developed arthritis.  He also is reported to have been deaf in one ear and partially blind in one eye from the really violent fights he would be involved in, as he further tested and developed his abilities.  So, not all conditioning is good for long term health and wellness, but may be good for short term survival when there are very lethal and imminent dangers abounding in day to day life.

As you practice and study various kata from these historical schools, it's important to also understand the kind of body that was developed to be able to perform these techniques.  If the technique, for instance, calls for striking the heart with one's fingers, think about how this would work if your fingers could rip bark off trees and break pebbles!  When you link parts of a kata together, most often the next part is reliant upon successful completion of the previous part.  If the next step in your technique actually relies upon really being able to pierce the opponent's chest with your finger tips - and you never develop your fingers to be able to actually DO it - then how successful will the next step be?  And if the conclusion of a kata is a natural conclusion of all it's parts being successful, how 'natural' is the technique conclusion if your body isn't developed enough to make all the steps work the way they are supposed to?



I'm not advocating driving your fingers into mud, then sand, then gravel and eventually into stone.  I'm not advocating slamming your forehead into boulders over and over again to build up scar tissue and callouses that make your forehead capable of crushing a rib cage.  We all live in a computer age, where the finite motor skills, sensitivity and dexterity of your hands is key to your economic survival.  We all live in an age where having a forehead that looks scarred and thick probably wouldn't serve you well in that employment or promotion board interview (although maybe Hollywood might find a spot for you!).  We all need to develop ourselves to survive in the real world, in our current, every day environment and challenges.  For most of us, it's careers, family, social circles, driving skills, and our overall health.  All of those require certain techniques, strategies and technologies to be successful and, failure with any of them, could lead to disastrous results.  Even a simple basic thing like a well executed, powerful punch could lead to a broken hand and/or wrist if the hand and wrist are conditioned for the impact.




Yet, we students love to train in martial arts.  We do it for health, protection of our loved ones and our selves, or other personal interests (history, etc).  However, in training, we most often limit our conditioning to stretching, some general fitness and striking into padded or mildly resistant target surfaces.  This carries with it the reduced capacity to gain the functional benefits many kata were designed to utilize.

So, next time you train on a kata, keep in mind the kinds of people who actually used these in real violent conflict and how they prepared their bodies for the techniques contained within it.  As budoka, find ways to push your own conditioning to allow for maximum results, adaptability and efficiency, without sacrificing your capacity to thrive in the demands and dangers of modern life.  Seek those techniques which carry the largest success in your present condition and train on them until they are ingrained.  As your conditioning increases, add those techniques which require more from your body.

And, don't fool yourself into injuring yourself with a technique that requires your body to be conditioned a certain way, when you haven't really done so.
 

Of Wolves & Sheep

"A budoka learns to have the eyes of the wolf, not of the sheep."

I was inspired to post that yesterday on my Facebook and it led to an interesting correlation between two different groups of martial arts students.  Consider this as students of martial arts - there is a vast difference in a group of students who are a pack of sheep, than a group of students who are a pack of wolves. Both have their social group structure. One group relies on each other because they are food. The other relies on each other to more efficiently obtain food.

Think about that for a minute.  I hope what I write in this post doesn't offend anybody.  It's just my observation based on over two decades of martial arts training and teaching in a variety of classes and group dynamics, with a broad range of different people and subjects.  My hope is that you look at yourself, what you train on, why you train, and with whom you train and maybe find some ounce of inspiration and clarity.

In martial arts classes, you have those who simply follow the group.  They love the training and they may even train hard.  But, they do so as a form of social dependency, deriving a greater sense of security and purpose simply by being a part of the group.  They usually don't train on their own or have an independent nature towards their own growth as budoka.  They rely completely on the group dynamic and feel best when they are "safe" in their training environment.  For them, training is secondary to just doing something enjoyable with a group of people they like.  They accept everything they hear and question nothing, because as long as it meets their needs, they are satisfied to just go with the flow.  They come to class with no agenda other than to absorb whatever is handed to them.  They are most often compliant during training and their ukemi can look really good.  They may even be picked by others in their group because they are fun to train with. 

If the quality of the instruction is poor, they will still stick to coming to class if they enjoy the social dynamic of the group.  They value the relationships to people as more important than the quality of the training (or even the training itself).

Those students are sheep and every class has them.  In fact, I have found they make up the vast majority of students in most martial arts classes.  I don't use the term "sheep" to denote anything derogatory or demeaning.  In fact, I am grateful for their participation.  No matter the individual purpose, as long as someone shows up and trains hard, they always have my admiration and respect as students.

However, there is another kind of martial arts student.  This group is hungry, always digging, always looking for that deeper lesson.  They don't just blindly accept anything.  They have to test it, work with it and push the limits to see if what they're taught is worth knowing.  They challenge themselves, each other and, sometimes, even their teacher.  They come to class with an agenda.  They can be social, but they are more interested in results than the entertainment.  They won't put up with poor quality, even in their teacher, and will leave a class if the quality drops below their expectations.  For them, they see everything through the filter of it's value in their training.  They still believe in a social dynamic, even a hierarchy, because they know that you need others in order to train.  But, who they allow into their circle is also filtered by the value they bring.  They want to train with people who challenge them, push their limits and really test their skills.  They want to hit and be hit.

Between classes, they are the ones meeting in the park to work on techniques or concepts from class.  They hit the heavy bag in their garage.  They exercise or engage in other physical activities.  They read books and watch videos about the art they train in.  They may even cross train in other arts and can have several belt rankings from different arts.

They are the wolves of the class.

In our modern age of martial arts, people train for a whole variety of personal reasons.  Many train simply for the health benefits, the social interaction, love of history, and many other reasons which differ from the original purpose of martial arts - to engage in war.  They find personal value in the experience and the results come from their personal happiness.  They want their security, with green grass and fresh water, even if it means being confined and controlled.  There's nothing wrong with being a sheep.

Wolves, on the other hand, train for the purposes the arts were born.  They want skill sets that will work, keep themselves and their loved ones alive in moments of violence, and their passion for this purpose fuels their commitment, consistency, and intensity towards training.  They may enjoy the history, the health benefits, the social interactions and other benefits.  But, ultimately, they desire effective combat skills, to believe in what they do, and have real confidence to be able to protect others.  They are hunters, protectors and nurturers.

When sheep see the teacher demonstrate a technique, they see the beauty, the science and believe in the effectiveness - whether it is done well or not.  They then learn that technique because it was what they were shown.  When a wolf sees the teacher demonstrate a technique, they squint, tilt their head, and try to find the practicality of it.  They don't just believe it works.  They have to feel it themselves.  They look for the flaws and the strengths alike.  They train on it, not because it is what was shown, but because they want to test it for themselves, to learn and incorporate the lessons contained it in, and push the boundaries to get the most from it.  They don't want their uke to just comply, either.

When martial arts were, in fact, martial (i.e. war), people had to be serious about their training.  Their lives and the lives of their people depended on it.  Those who were responsible for the training and development of military forces were always searching for the most effective tools and strategies.  They often traveled, studied with those who held new technologies and lessons, and quickly brought it all back to their own people to share.  Any new advancement in weapons, armor and tactics were golden to the military forces who relied on them for success in battle.  There was no blind acceptance, because mistakes would cost lives.  Everything was tested, scrutinized and pushed to the limits before it became accepted.  They didn't care about esoteric, aesthetic, entertaining social groups, and charismatic teachers.  They cared about results.

They were wolves.

But, thankfully, the majority of people don't live in those warring conditions.  So, in any martial arts dojo, there is plenty of room for sheep and wolves to train side by side.  Just don't be surprised to see the sheep laughing, playing, standing around talking and have a great time, while the wolves circle amongst themselves and beat, throw, twist up and thrash the crap out of each other.  Both have their agenda.  Both are getting what they want out of the training and there's nothing wrong with being either one.

I have come to believe, however, that with strong training and a commitment to keep going, a sheep can eventually become a wolf.  That, to me, is probably the single most amazing transformation to experience.  Just as amazing is when you see one of your students change, to know that you played a role in making that happen.  As a teacher, it inspires me beyond words and it's a major part of why I continue to coach and teach people.  But, no matter my teaching, coaching or influence, the individual still has to make a conscious decision to change.

At the end of the day, no matter your reasons for showing up to class, you have to ask yourself - are you training to be at the top of the food chain, or at the bottom?

Thoughts On Structure, Muscles and Striking Without Breaking

When you strike a target, depending on the level of resistance the target has, a returning force will instantly reverberate back into your body. When your structure is correct, this force will flow through your skeleton into the ground through your feet. Therefore, when skeletal alignment is correct, there should be an unbroken connection between the force going through your fist and the force going through your rear foot. Once force pushes the foot into the ground, there is then a return of that force back up the skeleton and back into the target. This is a repeated back and forth vibration of energy that penetrates the target and it all happens in an instant.

There are many kinds of force.  Force can be generated through muscles and movement.  It can also be "stolen", as in the case of using the force of gravity in a Drop Step, or the opponent's own momentum or line of force and so on.  But, in this article, I am looking at force itself and how it relates to your structure, your muscles and tissues and how they all work together.

Muscles are pliable and bones are solid. No matter how much tension a muscle creates, it can never be as solid as bone. When bones are lined up with each other, they provide structural support for each other. When bones are not in alignment with each other, the connecting tissues and muscles must absorb the returning force or the body collapses. If the amount of returning force exceeds the capacity of the tissues and muscle, rips and tears happen.

When structure is supported by skeletal alignment, there is less reliance on muscles.

Imagine trying to punch a target when you are treading water. How much force could you generate? This is due to the lack of connection of the foot to the ground. When any structural points in the body fall out of alignment, the same thing happens. The break in structure causes returning force to “leak” out of the break in alignment, forcing the connective tissues to try and hold the alignment and muscles to constrict and push force against the returning force to maintain the flow. No matter how strong the connective tissues and muscles, there is still a dramatic drop in the amount of force that returns back through and into the target. So, when structural alignment is intact, the degree force will penetrate the target is great. When structural alignment is not intact, the degree force will penetrate the target becomes shallow and weak.

When you practice your Atemi, the position of the rear foot is important. The alignment of the knees, hips and spine are important. The alignment of the shoulders, elbow and hand become important. All these are linked together in unison, as one alignment, to support the flow of power projected forward into the target, returning back into the body and down through the foot into the ground, then rebounded back up the body and through the fist back into the target. It happens as fast as lightening.

The role of the pliable muscles and connective tissues is to move and align the structure. The muscles fire by contracting, pulling and pushing the skeleton. That is their purpose. The more powerful they can generate energy and fire that energy, the more inertia is created and the skeleton is moved at a faster, more explosive pace. Using the equation Force = Mass x Acceleration, the role of the muscles are critical for creating force because they provide both mass and acceleration of that mass.

But, when that force meets impact with a resistant target, the structure must be aligned to absorb the returning force and the connection to the ground through the feet must be intact to provide a rebound of force back into the target to have devastating penetration. The roles of muscles and bones are interconnected through structure. If the structure is not intact and there is a “leak” of force, the muscles become dangerously weak to support the returning force because they have already fired to create the acceleration and projection. The returning force comes into the body much too fast for muscles to retract and provide resistance.

Powerful striking is a combined effort of both muscle and skeleton, of Mass times Acceleration, of firing and penetrating through the target. When performed at precise angles, in precise timings and at precise distances, the strike becomes more than just hitting. It becomes more than just contact with a target. It becomes a penetrating force that causes maximum effectiveness with minimal risk. That is what defines a powerful technique.

Happy New Year 2014 - "A Humbled Work In Progress"

Happy New Year 2014!

Well, this last year certainly has been quite the year.  As I contemplated what this blog post would contain, I was taken with just how much of my last year's post still seems to apply.  In case you never read it or need a reminder, you can find it here.

I wrote considerably about my challenges and struggles with training methods, the different (and very vocal) schools of thought, referenced my own experiences with real violence and how this has evolved my own view of training.  I ended with the idea that I would make 2013 about moving, timing and trying to pump life (and "realism") into the training.

Well, nothing has really changed as far as that goes.

This last year was marked with many major milestones.  I was introduced to the writings of guys like Rory Miller and Marc MacYoung, two men from different backgrounds, but who have vast amounts of experience with real violence in the real world, as opposed to the sanitized, controlled conditions of the dojo.  Their perspectives helped me to put words and thoughts to things which I also had experience with, but struggled with how to express in relation to my own training.  Real danger, real violence, is sometimes hard to really talk about or reflect in training.  My own background in law enforcement, security and investigations includes many situations where real violence happened and, honestly, most of it is a complete blur.  When you are filling out arrest reports, having to explain why and what you did, the exact techniques used and the justifications for the level of force you deployed, you find that much of the time you are able to do it as long as the situation was relatively controlled or within your ability to process the actions.  But, in an ambush, or if you don't have much experience with real violence, there is a blur or even a shutdown of perception that occurs.  Recollections become difficult and often what is remembered is not accurate.

I wonder how many faced the same problems back in the warring periods when martial arts were being taught?  I wonder how many returned from the battlefields and had difficulty trying to describe what happened, what techniques worked in particular situations, and, when they did describe something, it was not accurate due to the altered perception that the adrenaline cocktail induced?

I wonder how many samurai returned from a victorious battle, proudly displaying the heads of their defeated enemy, but had really very little idea of how they themselves survived through it all?

I wonder how many kata which were written down during these times were really only guesses and assumptions of how the victories were achieved, using logic and reasoning based on fleeting glimpses of an altered memory?

I wonder how many couldn't bring themselves to admit they didn't remember anything at all?

Kata are a study of physics, of anatomy and kinetics, of science and logic.  They attempt to teach many things, to provide a model to train the body for conflict in a variety of circumstances.  But, they are only empty shells, shallow and one dimensional.  They are ink drawings and vague writings on a scroll.  Very few, if any, kata on historical densho are explained in full detail.  I believe this to be for several reasons, which include security of information (in case the scrolls are stolen) and the fact that you just can't explain every detail in writing.  Scrolls or densho would be huge!  But, I also believe that this leaves the greater lessons to direct teaching, verbal instruction from teacher to student.  In addition, I also believe that there is a vast amount of learning that comes from just practice, because it is in practice that the variables begin to come out.  Differences in the training partners become a factor, such as size, weight, mobility, and other things.  Terrain is also a factor affecting movement and balance.  Then, there is equipment, weather, the chaos of battle, indoors or outdoors, and on and on.  There is also luck, that fickle lady who who can either be with you or against you from one moment to the next.  Lastly, there is what Rory Miller describes as the "Twilight Zone", the weird stuff that just happens with no rhyme or reason, seemingly defying any logic, predictability or even Laws of Nature!

How does one prepare for something like that?

That is where all the dojo training falls short.  You cannot create these conditions.  You can come close, but even then it's all controlled fantasy.  At the end of the day, your training is still based on agreements and rules, neither of which truly exist in real, life or death violence - and that difference is huge.  If it was real, you would likely never come to the dojo in the first place, or when faced with it, you would run out the door or grab one of the weapons hanging on the wall.  The reason for this difference is important.  I don't mean the reason being the violence itself, but of how you are on the inside when faced with it - compared to training in the controlled, fantasy violence of the dojo.

So, why train?

This is where everything rests for a martial artist.  People train for different reasons, some for fitness, some as a hobby, some for sport, and some for a love of history.  But, there are also those who train for self-defense and dealing with violence.  Based on the "why", the training methods will support it.  It is when someone trains in a manner which is different than their "why" that conflict happens, motivation drops and participation slowly trickles down to nothing.  But, when the "why" is matched to the method, then there is no conflict, motivation is high, and participation not only increases in the dojo, but continues outside the dojo, too.

So, my conclusion to this is that training in martial arts, or doing anything in life, should be an "inside out" process if there is to be growth and longevity.  You have to define your purpose, then align all your choices with that purpose.  When you do that, you express with freedom and power, you evolve and achieve great results.

But, when it comes to dealing with the reality of violence as the "why", there can be a conflict, especially if you enjoy the "violence" behind the training, as opposed to training to avoid violence.

Violence is terrible, ugly, and unnatural.  It is a fact of life, but it is not something to embrace.  To have violence as the centerpiece of your "why" for training, you are choosing to put your focus on that which is negative.  It is not a bad thing to do, as we all should be training for reality, but you need to have a greater purpose, a greater "why", that is life fulfilling.

Yet, when people train, they find great joy in the "violence" of their training.  Let's face it, how popular would a martial art be if every response was to either not step onto the mat to face the partner, or to just turn and run once the partner started to act?  Everybody wants to hit, kick, lock, twist, throw and cause pain to their partner.  Grab a weapon and excitement skyrockets.  The more lethal the weapon, the more the excitement and interest grows.  Violence is popular, even if it's fantasy.

But, when you approach your training from an "inside out" perspective, you have to ask yourself why.  Why does the applied "violence" of a technique excite you?  Now compare that to what the reality is with real violence, from a physical, emotional, and even legal liability.  Look at the possibilities of your own death, permanent injury, criminal prosecution and civil lawsuits.  Look at the reality of blood borne pathogens that you can contract from bodily fluids (blood, urine, excrement - all things that can exist in real violence).  Now consider bringing all this on your family, as you consider realities like being incarcerated, losing your job, losing your assets, or even losing your life or spending your life disabled.  Consider the health risks to your family if you bring home HIV, Hep, or any other nasty disease.  How exciting does the violence seem to you now?

How does this reality check affect the "why" of training?  It clearly shifts the interest from the excitement of thrashing your "attacker" to being excited to have survived.  In the latter, avoidance and escape offer the least of danger to you and your family.  When violence is unavoidable, using tactics and techniques designed for maximum effect with minimal risk is the logical application when the "why" is rooted in the reality of violence I described.

So, then, how does the methods of training align to support such a "why"?  This is where the struggle can happen, as training methods which focus more on techniques can lose the greater purpose behind the "why", causing a disconnect and fatal flaw in application when it is for real.  This also is where too much focus on the "why" without the perfecting of techniques which support it can leave someone training incorrectly, ineffectively or even dangerously.  We still need to be able to perform correct technique, regardless of the "why", but we also need a "why" to tell us which techniques to perform - and it's the "why" which influences the manner in which those techniques are deployed.

Jack Hoban Shihan wrote a very good New Year's Message for 2014.  In it, he makes a distinction between "inside out" and "outside in".  He said that we can create laws to control society, but that laws are an "outside in" method that will never change how a person is.  An unethical person will still choose to act unethical, even if laws are in place.  However, if a person has good ethics, they will act ethical regardless of laws.  For instance, most people have a universal sense of ethics.  We just *know* lying, stealing, murdering, raping, etc, are all wrong.  We don't need laws to keep us from doing any of those unethical things.  Yet, there are those who, regardless of the laws against those actions, still choose to commit them against others.  Bottom line is that, when your foundation is set a certain way, your actions will emanate from that center, regardless of what society, rules, laws, or anything else "outside" would dictate.

In training, we have countless kata, techniques, principles, and so on.  But, how we are, our foundation, will still dictate how our own expression of martial arts play out in our world.  There are those people who would never take another life, no matter what.  In the military, they are called "Conscientious Objectors".  No matter how many techniques they are shown on how to take a life, they will either hesitate or fail to act.  However, those who can rationalize or justify their abhorrence to taking a life will accept those techniques and deploy them when the conditions match their justification (example:  When faced with lethal force and no other option exists.).

There are those who are natural grapplers, natural strikers, those who are evasive, those who can generate great power and those who are very subtle.  The same technique or kata will work for them within their natural abilities.  But, when the technique *requires* something that is outside their natural abilities, it will fail or be dangerously ineffective.  This means that the person training has to understand and accept that they may not be able to do a certain technique or that it may be lacking in some way.  They will need to find ways to work *with* their natural abilities in the kata or technique, not try to just "make it work" regardless.  This is an important part of training and why it's vital to train with different partners and in different circumstances.

This is also why a martial arts student needs to be able to let go of the rigid reliance of forms.  Those forms are there to teach, to reveal the natural attributes of the person, and to provide a frame of reference or starting point.  But, in application, that's where individual natural ability comes into play, where being able to adapt the technique or kata to the unique situation, people involved, environment, weapons and all the other factors.  The more effortlessly, smoothly and efficiently one can adapt along their natural abilities, the greater their survivability when the violence is real.  That is a stronger battle skill than performing a specific kata on a cooperative partner who follows the rules and moves the way he is *supposed* to...

I learned a great many things this last year, not so much about the art I train in, but more about myself and my own natural abilities.  I learned exactly where conflicts are in my budo path and was humbled at many points when flaws in my own knowledge and ability were revealed before me.  Luckily none of those revelations happened in real violence, although I shudder to think about the possibilities that could have happened if that was the case.

One of the main lessons I received this year was the realization that I had spent so much time and energy trying to move like other people.  There are some really good martial arts teachers who have taught me many valuable lessons, shared really great insights, and helped me to understand so much.  But, in my attempts to move like them, I found myself facing futility as each one moved different from the next.  It was like trying to dance the Texas Two-Step, while also trying to Waltz and Tango - all to music that had rhythms which moved at differing timings and intensities.  Instead of growing, I became entangled in my own taijutsu.  When I was put on the spot, in front of a large gathering of visiting buyu, I lost it all and performed, in my opinion, as bad as I ever could have.  That moment was a huge wake up call.  I realized, right then, that I was looking outside, at everybody else, instead of focusing on my inside.  By trying to train like everybody else, I was following the "outside in" approach, which only ended up with me embarrassing myself and having nothing to show for it.

So, my goal, my purpose, is to reconnect to "why".  This is a personal thing, as it is for all of us.  But, it is in my own "why" that I want to continue my own training, to seek out those things which support my reasons, my ethics, my purpose, my foundation or base.  I am not looking to memorize countless kata or techniques.  I am not looking to be a historian or martial arts archeologist.  I'm also not looking to try and find the "new way" to train.  I am simply trying to align my training with my "why".

But, first, I have to define that "why", which is trickier than it seems.

So, for me, 2014 is going to be a year of introspection, exploration and discovery.  I will still continue to teach, to help people, to provide training methods and inspiration as best as I can.  But, my focus will be centered more on my own Musha Shugyo, my own warrior path.  I will be dedicated to reaching out among my fellow budoka, my sempai and sensei, for continued guidance and inspiration.  But, I will also begin to strip away those things which are interfering or in conflict with my own "why". 

I will be training more, but on less.  I will be looking at myself while I do so, instead of everybody else.  I will be attempting to reveal my own true expression of budo, my own naturalness, my own freedom and passion, using the lessons of my Bujinkan Soke, Shihan and fellow budo deshi, digging into the "why" behind the kata instead of just the "how", to focus on living in the present reality and applying my training to all areas of my life - not just the safe, controlled fantasy of the dojo.

There is more to this, but I find myself lacking the words to describe it.  I get a sense that this has more to do with feeling and emotion than it does with logic, causing any attempt to communicate it incomplete and always missing the deepest, most significant parts.  It is in this feeling or emotion that I want to pursue my training.  Because there are no words to best express this, only action, I can really see the truth behind Soke's own admonition - "Shut Up & Train".

I guess that is really my personal theme for 2014 - "Shut Up & Train"!  Except I would add one more to it - "Shut Up, Train & Live!".

That sounds good to me.  May 2014 for you be filled with all the wonderment, success and enjoyment you deserve.  Be safe and train hard!

Budo, Goshin or Konran?

Warning - this is an attempt to sort out some thoughts that have been bubbling up lately in my head, sparked by some very recent experiences and conversations, but built upon many years of contemplation and my own life experience.

For starters, let me pose this question:

Are you studying budo, goshin or konran?  Don't know what they mean?  Let me define them this way.  Budo 武道 is "martial arts", Goshinjutsu 護身術 means to "protect one's body" and Konran 混乱 means "confusion".

If you ask around the Bujinkan, most people will say "budo".  But, some will say "goshinjutsu".  Nobody will say "konran".  If you talk further, away from Japanese terminology, people begin to talk about "self-defense", which is Goshinjutsu.  But, as you talk even further, especially with the more experienced students and teachers, most admit that learning Soke's art is to always be in a constant state of "confusion" (Konran).

So, what are you training in?

I am going to make a set of statements that might offend some, make some squirm, maybe even begin to question themselves and what they are doing.  But, it has taken me many years to finally accept these as fact and in accepting them I have come to find clarity and purpose - two things I have very seldom been able to find along this martial "path" I've followed for so long.  Here are my statements:

1.  If you are training in Budo, you are not training in Goshinjutsu.
2.  If you are training in Goshinjutsu, you are not training in Budo.
3.  If your training is Konran, you are not training in Budo or Goshinjutsu.

Now, before the flames start, let me clarify. 

Budo is martial "ART", as in it is a form, a particular expression of something, done in a manner that follows a particular method.  All arts have their structure and purpose, whether dancing, painting, sculpting or martial arts.  They have a teacher who teaches pupils to learn key lessons that portray the unique attributes of that art and, very often, carry the specific influences of that teacher - and all those teachers before who have handed down those teachings.  The purpose is the art itself.

Goshinjutsu is, literally, to protect one's self.  It is pure in that there is no specific 'form'.  The sole purpose is preservation.  So, the methods vary by circumstance and it's entirely comprised of techniques for survival, doing whatever works.  It is the world of "henka" or variation.

Konran is confusion, a state of being where there is no direction, no vision, no clarity, no definition, no form or any sense of balance.  It goes far beyond just not knowing something.

When you train in Budo, you are learning the art.  The techniques are used to teach the art.  The principles are there to teach the art.  The concepts and strategies are there to teach the art.  The headmaster, Soke or Sensei, is there to represent the art to their deshi (students).

When you train in Goshinjutsu, you are applying techniques, strategies and principles in combat situations.  You train to escape or defeat an opponent under a variety of circumstances, using whatever resources are available, with no consideration for any particular form, method or "art" (outside of particular conditions presented in the training).

When you train in Konran, you are acting entirely on impulse and base animal instincts.  Adrenaline cocktail induced shutdowns and freezes are most likely to happen.

As a budoka, it's important to train in Budo, to learn the form, the art, as completely as possible.  But, you also need to practice Goshinjutsu by applying your training to a variety of situations, to adapt it to a broad range of circumstances, challenge yourself with it, take it outside the confines of the form to build practicality and implementation skills with what you learn.  This gives it purpose beyond the art itself.  Lastly, it's important to step outside the box, to take your training into areas which are uncomfortable and challenging, to create confusion and adrenaline.  You need to experience the 'freeze', the fear and shock of something unexpected, new and unpredictable.

To train in these three methods is how a well rounded budoka can be developed.  But, let's not fool ourselves into thinking that by training in one, we are training in the others.  You do so at the sacrifice of it all.  It is all too easy to try to change the art, the budo, when one tries to apply them to mock "self-defense" situations.  But, true "self-defense" is a very broad, multi-layered subject that incorporates the reality of violence, the world of predators and social violence, the legal aspects and use of force rules, and the physical, mental and emotional aspects involved.  Most of what we see as budo (martial arts) do not cover these areas in quite so specific of a manner.  But, training in self-defense also doesn't cover the refinement, the efficiency, the beauty that a budo path offers.  There's no history, culture or substance outside of immediate practicality to dealing with real world danger and liabilities associated.

The problem happens when one trains in budo, learning an art, then tries to force it into a real world self-defense situation without going into all the other components that define self-defense.  They spend their time changing the art to make it fit, losing the foundations that make the art an art, turning it into something else that most often becomes the budoka's own thing instead of the art they profess to train in.  That is fine and can be an effective system if the skills are solid, but it's not the same art.  Without a strong reinforcement and constant connection to training in the art, this undoubtedly can lead to confusion, or konran, especially if one continues to try and convince himself that he is still training in that art.

There is more I could write on this, but I'm going to leave it here.  My point is simply to suggest that we each look at what it is we are doing in our training and ask:

Are you really, truly training in the art, in self-defense or in confusion?

 

Some Thoughts On YouTube Videos...

Some thoughts on YouTube videos...

If you were to look up "Bujinkan" on YouTube, you would find almost 82,000 results. Most of them are marketing videos and various videos of people who aren't even qualified instructors. Amongst all the videos are those videos which are either shots from seminars and "published" videos (like Soke's videos, etc). These tend to be on the 'better' end of the spectrum and can be worth a viewing.

But, herein lies a problem that I, myself, have fallen victim to at different points. We see a video that 'looks' good. We get inspired by it and decide to incorporate things from in into our training. The dilemma is that learning and applying things from so many different video sources can often lead us into disarray in our taijutsu. This is due to several possible and likely factors:

1. The person in the video is not your teacher. You do not train regularly with him/her, don't have any sort of feedback or kuden (oral instruction) that is geared towards developing you as their student.

2. You don't have the overall context of the teaching or demonstration. You see a cool little version of a technique and immediately start replicating. Problem is that you are doing something that likely could just be an exploration or extension of a greater lesson or teaching that was no in the video. Missing that 'starting point' is a vital thing. Too many times, what is demonstrated is interpreted as the lesson, when in actuality it may just be an application of a lesson - the very lesson that wasn't included in the video.

3. The things shown in the video lead to a different conclusion. If you are training under a real teacher, you are being trained and developed along a particular path. There is a logic and process that will eventually take you to a certain level of ability. When you pick up things from another teacher's video, you are picking up things that may be contradictory or leading to a different result. Although learning new approaches and perspectives is a good thing, you have to be careful you aren't blinding yourself to the one your teacher is investing the time and energy to provide for you.

4. Videos are easier. This is something that causes an uncomfortable stir among budoka, I am sure. We can literally spend countless hours watching YouTube videos of guys teaching and training. We may think we are learning something new, but none of it matters until we step foot on the tatami and actually train our bodies. The problem is that the latter is uncomfortable and difficult, or at least your training should be. Watching videos is easy. Dreaming and being inspired is fun and exciting. Spending an hour doing a zenpo keri forward kick over and over to develop power, structure and accuracy is not fun or exciting. But, which one will make you a better budoka? You have to ask yourself what you desire more, to be entertained or to be skilled?

At the recent Duncan Stewart Shihan seminar, Duncan made the comment about how people's taijutsu seemed 'weird'. He attributed it to people spending too much time training on variables, which includes different teachers. He was careful to point out the value in getting out to train with different teachers, but that doing it too much or with the wrong focus will cause chaos and confusion. There are always going to be those things that seem better than what you are doing. The grass will always 'look' greener over the fence. However, instead of hopping fences to always chase the greener grass, why not put your head and back down, get your hands dirty, and work the patch of dirt under your own feet - and grow your own beautiful grass?

Do that and you'll discover your own lawn is better that what's "over there".